


sweet cinnamon

by ferne



Series: flavors of your heart [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Also Eren wears oversized sweaters, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Student Eren Yeager, Eren Yeager Has Heterochromia Iridum, Honestly he's completely smitten with Eren, Levi Has Feelings (Shingeki no Kyojin), M/M, SO MUCH TEA, Tea-drinking, levi has a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25749262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferne/pseuds/ferne
Summary: “Sorry, are you heading in to the party?” The kid asks, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.Levi stares for a moment, before realizing that he actually does expect him to answer eventually, you know, like a normal human and not someone trying to cope with being struck over the head by Cupid’s crowbar.“Er no.” Great, just great. “You’re crying.”The young man lets out a squeak and crumples into his sweater a little further. “Sorry.”“I don’t give a shit if you’re crying.” Fuck, no not like that. It’s only after the words are out that Levi realizes just what a complete and utter asshole they make him sound like.* * *When Levi goes to tell off his neighbors due to their hosting of a college frat party with music so loud his ears threaten to bleed, the last thing he expects to encounter is an angelic, teary-eyed stranger sitting out in the cold.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Series: flavors of your heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900930
Comments: 66
Kudos: 638





	1. ginger & clove

Sometimes, he can be an incredibly patient man. Like when Erwin wants to try and explain wine pairings to him (Levi doesn’t fucking get it and he ever will. All wine tastes relatively similar to him, a fact that Erwin seems to think is a personal offense). Or when Isabel and Farlan come over and strong-arm him into a movie night where they will invariably put on a romantic comedy and proceed to fall asleep on either side of him. 

His tolerance level for the rest of humanity is remarkably high, considering how utterly shit people generally are. Sometimes. 

This Tuesday night is not one of those times. 

This Tuesday night, he has a seven-thirty meeting the following morning (fucking time difference) with Hanji and Erwin who are currently abroad in France, helping to open the new offices of their company, Survey Сorps, there. He’s almost certain they’ve set up such an inconveniently-timed teleconference just to spite him for saying he won’t attend their ‘Office Holiday Party/Levi’s Super B-Day Extravaganza’ as Hanji coined it. 

Normally it wouldn’t be an issue. He can’t sleep for shit half the time, generally operating on at most six hours of sleep on a good night. Six hours of sleep and a “heinous” amount of strong, black tea as Isabel would say. 

However, he's recently added a pretty solid boxing regimen on top of his daily runs. The added exertion has done wonders to combat his mild to moderate insomnia.

Crawling into bed a little before ten PM, he’s actually looking forward to going to sleep, sore muscles relaxed after a hot shower. Unlike most nights, he’s not filled with restless energy. Hell, he might go so far as to say he feels  _ peaceful _ . His evening had been solitary but good, filled with several cups of herbal tea (a persimmon and rose blend gifted to him by Erwin) and an interesting book about irrigation techniques for backyard gardening, another hobby he’s picked up in an attempt to convince himself he's not a complete workaholic.

His life isn't necessarily exciting, as much as it is content...good. 

“Or you’re just fucking old,” he mutters to himself, taking off his glasses and turning out his bedside lamp. 

Lady Earl Grey, his cat, leaps up onto the bed, staring at him through wide green eyes before curling up into a ball next to his elbow. 

Yeah, it’s a good night, all things considered. 

It’s about fifteen minutes later that the music begins. Loud, pulsating EDM that sounds as though it’s coming from the house next door.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He hisses into the darkness. 

The darkness doesn’t answer, though Lady flicks her tail toward him without opening her eyes.

Letting out a long breath, he drops an arm over his face. It’s fine. He’s slept in far, far worse conditions. 

Still, he lives in this neighborhood for a reason. It’s on the edge of the city with a decent commute and (until now) quiet neighbors. Not overly friendly enough to have more than one block party a year, but warm enough that parents let little kids trick or treat without supervision. It’s nice. Cozy even. 

Except for, at some point in the last few months his neighbors to the left moved house and a couple of what he thinks are college-age kids moved in. His inner voice (which sounds suspiciously like Hanji) points out that calling them ‘kids’ really cements just how  _ old  _ Levi’s becoming. 

Though perhaps his growing irritation at their racket is even more telling. 

They’ll probably wrap it up quickly, he tries to convince himself. After all, it’s a weeknight and they probably have classes to go to. 

Though when has logic ever stopped college students from partying? It sure as hell hadn’t stopped his peers ( _ best friends _ , the Hanji-like voice corrects) from doing the same thing when they’d attended uni together. He's spent more than his fair share of nights in low lit rooms, drinking cheap beer, and letting his hearing get damaged by too-loud music. 

He gets the appeal, even if it isn’t his scene any longer, and on another night he might not feel the molten rage boiling up in his chest toward his clueless neighbors. 

But too bad for them, because now he’s wide awake and  _ pissed _ . 

After allowing him a few minutes to seethe in the privacy of his room, he takes a few calming breaths and shoves his head beneath his pillow in an attempt to drown out the noise. He squeezes his eyes shut, determined not to open them until the following morning when his chirpy alarm will wake him to get ready for the day.

Yeah, he can do this. No problem. 

Except it isn’t morning when he opens his eyes again. No, it’s a little after one AM and while he’s been able to slip in and out of a fitful doze, there’s a headache blooming behind his eyes and Levi is  _ very  _ much awake. 

“Fuck this,” he whispers, half to himself and maybe a little to Lady as well, who to Levi’s chagrin, doesn’t bother opening her eyes even as her owner crawls out of bed, muttering death threats. “Fuck my neighbors, fuck college students, and their stupid fucking parties.” 

He yanks on the first pair of jeans he can find, followed by a black denim jacket (Petra, his assistant, had told him that it made him look like some sort of Greaser last time he wore it on one of their casual Fridays. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing in this situation, but it’s a hell of a lot better than just a t-shirt). Lastly, he stuffs his feet into some boots he’s had for the better part of a decade and grabs his keys before heading out the door. 

The music is far louder standing outside on his front porch. The frigid November air greets him, along with a thumping bass that reverberates through his shoes and up to his teeth. Bright lights spill out of the windows from the house next door in a myriad of neon colors. If he squints, he can make out the shapes of moving figures—probably dancing and certainly drunk—within. Clearly, the party is not winding down in the slightest. 

Well, time to rain on some fucking parades. 

He’ll never admit to it, but as he strides toward the house, he’s filled with a slight scrooge-like glee. If they’re content to ruin his perfectly pleasant evening, the least he can do is return the favor. It’s like writing a yelp review for a particularly shit restaurant, some sort of bizarre, benign act of petty justice, or something. 

He doesn’t want to examine the psychology behind it. 

All thoughts of righteous vengeance go out the window; however, when he actually makes it in front of the house and spots a figure slumped on the steps, face hidden by a mop of shaggy brown hair, shoulders shaking. Before Levi can speak, the stranger looks up, eyes widening. 

_ Oh shit, he’s pretty _ . The revelation feels like a bucket of water being poured over his head.

The young man blinks at him through reddened eyes, one a yellow-hazel, one a near-teal. Even with his face puffy from crying, Levi can tell that perhaps ‘pretty’ is an understatement.  _ A literally fucking angel  _ is more accurate. An angel that’s crying on a freezing cold stoop. As he watches, he wipes his face on the sleeve of his large, soft-looking sweater. 

“Sorry, are you heading in?” He asks, voice thick. 

Levi stares for a moment, before realizing that the boy actually does expect him to answer eventually, you know, like a normal human and not someone trying to cope with being struck over the head by Cupid’s crowbar. 

“Er no.” Great, just great. “You’re crying.” 

The young man lets out a squeak and crumples in a little further. “Sorry.” 

“I don’t give a shit if you’re crying.” Fuck, no not like that. It’s only after the words are out that Levi realizes just what a complete and utter asshole they make him sound like. 

A fresh sob breaks in the strange young man’s chest and hangs his head again. 

“No, kid, not like that. I mean I don’t mind.” Levi runs a hand over his face, sighing. He's never been good with words. “I mean it’s okay to cry. Don’t worry about it.”

The young man lets out a sniff, looking up at him again. “Oh, thanks I guess.” 

Silence stretches between them. Levi shifts from foot to foot, trying to ignore the cold that’s creeping into his fingers and toes. Fuck, it’s only November it shouldn’t feel like the arctic quite yet. At the very least, the boy’s stopped crying. Instead, he peers at Levi through long lashes, blinking curiously. 

“Why are you crying?” Yeah, that’s good, bring up whatever upset him in the first place. Definitely isn’t going to just upset him again. Hell, why would the kid even want to talk to Levi, a complete stranger, who probably looks like a weirdo, standing in the street, about his problems? He should go, it’s not like— 

“It was just too much. I’ve been so stressed about finals and stuff so one of my friends dragged me here, but then he disappeared with his boyfriend so I can’t go home but he’s not going to be able to drive anyway and I don’t have a car, plus my phone is dead and I don’t know anyone and it was so loud and everyone was drinking, but I don’t drink, and the music was giving me a headache, and people kept trying to get me to dance but I didn’t feel like it and it was just….too much.” All the words burst from his mouth in a rush so fast at first that Levi can barely make them out, but gradually slow before ending with a small hiccup. 

The young man swallows hard, fingers twisting in the cuffs of his sweater where they’re too long for his fingers. He looks away from Levi and down at the ground. Even though he’s not  _ technically  _ crying anymore it seems as though he’s only seconds away from bursting into tears again. 

“Sorry, you didn’t want to know any of that. Why are you here? Are you going to the party?” he asks, meeting Levi’s eyes again. 

“Your friend sounds like a total dick,” Levi blurts. 

The young man’s mouth drops open in a small ‘o’ before his hand shoots up to cover it. Levi’s stomach falls through the floor before he catches a slight curl of his lips and the boy lets out a soft chuckle. 

“Yeah, he kinda can be. He doesn’t mean to...at least not all the time.” 

Levi lets out a long breath, trying to calm the frantic pounding in his chest because, fuck, the kid was cute when he was crying, but smiling? Honestly, he’s too fucking old to feel the fluttering sensation in his stomach (‘ _ butterflies _ ,’ insists the Hanji-like voice, ‘  _ butterflies, Levi  _ ’) over some random stranger, but here he is. At this moment, he’s ready to do just about anything to see that soft, shy smile again. 

“Do you want to come over to mine?” He asks before he can think better of it. “I live next door and it’s cold so you probably shouldn’t be sitting outside. You can use my phone. I promise I’m not some creep or anything...you just look cold and kinda sad….” 

The pretty, two-toned eyes narrow, and the stranger looks him over from head to toe slowly, as though trying to confirm his intentions based upon his appearance. Levi resists the urge to fiddle with his clothes and hair, opting to instead to give his best impression of a statue, not even risking breathing lest it somehow appears threatening. 

Then he sits back and shrugs, another smile, more tentative and less watery appearing on his face. 

The kid has dimples. Levi thinks he’s on the verge of a heart attack (which is going to be a pretty shameful way to go considering his age and level of fitness). 

“Okay. Lead the way,” The stranger says, standing up. 

Shit, he’s tall too. Levi’s always had a thing for tall people. Even standing though, the kid’s sweater is clearly several sizes too big, slipping down over the palms of his hands and that’s endearing too in some way Levi doesn’t care to examine. 

Levi’s certain that anything he says now will only come out completely stupid, so he opts to nod instead leading them toward his house, 

They walk in silence, shoes crunching over the frozen leaves littering the sidewalk. He can’t help but feel relieved that even if this goes badly, the kid’s out of the cold. 

He leads him silently up the steps and climbs the stairs up to the top floor of the building. “It’s split into four apartments,” he explains when the stranger’s brows furrow together at the set of stairs before them. 

Levi lets them into his apartment, now glad that he forgot to shut off the living room light. For a long moment, the kid just stands in his doorway, taking it all in. There’s not much to see. Levi’s always favored minimalist decor, though he does have an extensive book collection that he’s more than a little proud of. Still, the main room is small with an open concept kitchen that flows into the living room and dining area. Nearly everything is either grey or black except for the various odd knick-knacks his friends have given (read: forced upon him) over the years. 

The stranger doesn’t comment, but mimics Levi, leaving his beat-up red sneakers in the shoe tray beside the door before padding after him to the kitchen. 

“Phone’s over there.” Levi nods at the landline phone sitting on the black marble countertop. 

The stranger scoops up the phone and stares at it chewing his lip. He begins to type a number in, then stops, shoulders slumping again. 

“What’s the matter, kid?” He asks, leaning back against the counter after washing his hands. 

He seems a little embarrassed and close to tears once more. “I—I transferred to Trost University this year and I don’t really know anyone.” 

Levi frowns. “Roommate?” 

He huffs bitterly. “That’s the friend I mentioned earlier, the one who disappeared with his boyfriend.” 

The stranger doesn’t look at him, instead looking down at his socks (they’re mismatched, one green, the other yellow with what looks to be cartoon puppies on them) and fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater once more. 

“Well, you can crash on the couch or something.” Levi shrugs. “It’s a pretty damn comfortable couch.” 

He blinks at him owlishly, hands falling back to his sides. Suddenly, the stranger hiccups and Levi realizes that tears are slipping down his cheeks again. 

“Shit, sorry,” Levi panics, stepping back so as not to distress the kid any further. “I wasn’t trying to freak you out, it just seems like you don’t—”

“You’re being so nice to me and I don’t even know your name,” the boy cries. “What even are you, some kind of guardian angel?” He wipes his face on his sleeve again. “Sorry, it’s just been a tough night and you’re so kind it’s a little...it’s like whiplash or something.” 

_ 'Marry me’,  _ is what he wants to say, but instead, he opts for. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure helping you out is going to do wonders for my karma. My name’s Levi.” 

He holds out a hand when the boy shakes it, Levi’s only a little bit grossed out by the sweatiness of his palm. “I’m Eren Jaeger.” 

“Well,  _ Eren _ , do you want a glass of water? Or tea?” Levi turns and picks up his kettle, filling it with water at the sink. 

As much as he’d like to look at Eren and try to memorize every little detail about him, he gets the feeling that the boy requires something to calm his nerves and he’s got no fucking clue how to do that, so making tea seems like the best bet. 

“What are you having?” There are soft footsteps behind him, judging by the squeak that follows, it’s Eren going to sit on one of the barstools at the counter. 

“Tea.” 

“I’ll have that too then.” Fuck, that’s cute. Literally, everything about Eren is cute thus far. Levi knows that these thoughts will be written all over his face if he turns around so instead he just busies himself looking through his ‘small tea horde’ as Isabel nicknamed it. 

“Are you some kind of tea collector?” Eren asks, tentatively. 

He risks a glance back and sees that he is indeed sat at the counter, craning his neck to see into the drawer in front of Levi. 

“No,” Levi answers. “I just drink it often. And no one ever knows what to give me for holidays, so, tea.” 

Eren laughs softly at that. “Ah, I see. I usually just get socks or underwear.” 

He can’t resist. “Underwear from your friends?” 

The boy lets out a squeak again. “No! From my parents.” 

“Easy, I’m just teasing you.” 

He takes down two mugs from the cabinet full of the other thing that all his friends have collectively decided to give him for every gift-giving occasion: terrible novelty mugs. Thankfully, there are two (relatively) non-offensive ones toward the front. 

“What kind of tea would you like?” He pauses, turning back to look at Eren properly. 

His bushy brows knit together in concentration, a small frown tugging at his mouth, as though he’s really contemplating the question. 

“Something cinnamon-y.” 

Levi arches a brow at him, more to see him flustered than out of any real confusion about the request. “‘Cinnamon-y?’” 

Eren ducks down as though he wants to burrow into his sweater. If he looks closely, Levi catches a bit of a dark flush painting its way over his tan skin. “You know what I mean...something with spices in it.” 

He huffs, fishing a decaf ginger chai mix out of the tea drawer before shutting it. “Don’t worry, I do."

He adds the leaves to the tea ball before settling it in a small black teapot and pouring in the hot water. Soon the soothing aroma of clove, cinnamon, and ginger fill the air of the small kitchen. Eren doesn’t speak, but Levi can feel him watch as he prepares two cups of tea for them. 

“What do you like in your tea?” 

"Ah,” Eren hesitates. “I don’t really drink tea ever….milk and sugar maybe?” 

“Milk and sugar is a good place to start.” 

It’s almost bizarre how at ease he feels making tea for Eren and himself in silence. Though he wouldn’t consider himself talkative at the best of times, Levi’s never been particularly fond of silence either. He’s self-aware enough to realize that his presence is generally not a soothing one. He’s awkward, blunt to a fault, and just generally shit with people. This though...it feels almost natural. Familiar. Like it makes sense to be making two cups of tea instead of one. 

Behind him, Eren sits, tracing his fingers over the smooth countertop in a way that will definitely leave smudges to scrub away later, but Levi finds that it doesn’t bother him. He’s almost looking forward to it, eager to see what near-invisible doodles have been left behind as evidence of Eren’s brief visit to his apartment. 

“Thank you,” Eren murmurs, curling his fingers around the edge of the cup. 

Levi gets the smile he was hoping for after the other man takes a sip of the tea. Bright white teeth flash and suddenly the butterflies he felt earlier return full force. He ducks his head, sipping at his own mug before he can get caught looking too long. 

It’s only when Eren lets out a sudden snort that he looks up, quizzically. 

“Something funny?” 

Eren giggles again. “Your mug. It’s cute.” 

Levi glances at his mug, already having forgotten what it says: ‘Show me your kitties!’ 

“It’s surprising. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would own something like that.” Eren tilts his head to the side slightly, as though considering him with great thought. 

“Tch.” Another sip. “Yours isn’t much better.” 

Eren glances at his mug, no doubt having missed the phrase on the opposite side.

“‘Kiss me I’m short.’” He laughs full out at that one, hastily setting down his mug to not slosh the drink all over the counter. One sweater-covered hand shoots up again to hide his mouth. “You really buy these?” 

Levi shakes his head. “No the bastards I let hang around do. I’m not sure any of them grasp that a gift is supposed to be something the receiver actually  _ likes  _ .” 

Eren lets his hand drop, still smiling softly. Levi feels his heart melt down into his socks at the warm look. God, he could certainly get used to that quick. 

“Your friends sound nice.” There’s a distinct wistfulness in Eren’s voice. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” Levi shrugs. “What about you?” 

Eren blinks, fidgeting in his seat. “Ah, my two best friends—one’s actually my sister—are both going to school on the West Coast, so I don’t get to see them often. Other than that I’ve got my roommate Jean...when he’s not being a complete dick.” 

“Why didn’t you go to school out West with them?” It’s nosey and probably a sensitive subject but he can’t help it. He’s overwhelmed by the need to know every detail he can about Eren. To figure out the inner workings of him. 

He shrugs. “I did for my first two years of college, but I wasn’t enjoying my major and the school’s atmosphere just didn’t work for me like it does for them. Trost has a really excellent dual degree program and when I got a scholarship it was too good an opportunity to pass up.” 

“What are you studying?” 

Eren’s face lights up at that question, making warmth bloom in his chest. “Physical therapy and early childhood education.” 

“Why those two?” Levi asks, curiosity genuine. “They seem incongruent.” 

“I want to have options and I’m passionate about both. I did a lot of sports and was on the track team in college. Injuries meant that I spent a bit of time working with a physical therapist and I got to see how important their role is in helping people recover and return to their lives.” He gets progressively more animated as he speaks, gesturing with his hands. “And education is a field in which you also get to help people. My mom is a kindergarten teacher and I shadowed her a few summers when she coordinated summer programs. I really like how you can help introduce kids to so much in the world and the sort of...wonder that it can bring. Like, you don’t really think about how the world is because you’re just, you know, in it all the time. But when you work with kids, you begin to see how the world is to them. It’s still all shiny and new and I think it’s important that there are teachers who want to encourage curiosity and help kids grow into people that are ready for the future.” He lets out a breath and blushes. “Sorry, I got a little carried away there. I could talk about this stuff for hours.” 

Despite his embarrassment, Eren’s practically glowing with enthusiasm and for a long moment, Levi can’t do anything but gaze at him and ponder what he did right in some other lifetime to have crossed paths with him. 

“That’s pretty fucking noble.” 

“Ah...I guess you could look at it that way? I’m interested in the subjects, so it doesn’t really seem all that noble to me. I like teaching and PT. It’s...not that deep.” Eren looks away from him and rubs at the back of his neck, face growing pink. “What is it that you do?”

“I work in finance for a rock climbing and outdoor gear company that a good friend of mine—actually the one that gave me that shitty mug your holding—founded.” 

Eren’s eyebrows shoot up again. He leans a little closer across the counter, nose scrunching as he looks over Levi once more. 

“That makes sense,” he declares with a nod, sitting back.

“Oh?” Levi can’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up. “Care to elaborate, kid?” 

Eren scowls. “I’m not a kid.” 

“You are.” 

“I’m twenty-three!” 

“Yeah and I’m thirty-four, i.e. I have free reign to call you ‘kid.’” 

Eren’s mouth falls open comically and blinks at Levi. “What? You’re joking.” 

“Do you wanna see my license or something?” 

“No, no I believe you it’s just...you don’t look that old,” Eren says, cringing. 

He laughs softly. “Don’t worry about it, I get it a lot.” 

The lapse into an easy silence, sipping at their respective drinks. Eren looks around the room, eyes skimming over the furniture with interest before circling back to Levi. 

“So, you were saying that finances make sense for me or something like that?” 

“Ah.” Eren nods. “You seem...responsible.” 

“Is that your polite way of saying ‘old as fuck?’” 

A bright laugh bursts from Eren’s mouth and he grins again, shoulders relaxing. Still smiling, he shakes his head, making his soft-looking hair flop about and filling Levi with the urge to ruffle it. “No, no, not at all. I mean it. You have a nice apartment and you drink tea...those are responsible-person qualities.” 

“You flatter me,” Levi says dryly. 

Eren rolls his eyes, but presses on, undeterred by Levi’s snark. “You seem like you actually have your life together. Plus, rock climbing. That’s a very cool sport.”

“You know you don’t actually have to participate in the sport to work at a company selling its equipment, right?” 

“So you don’t climb?” The kid’s eyes skim over him again, as though trying to gauge how fit he is, hidden beneath the denim jacket. 

“No, I do,” Levi admits. “It’d be a pretty boring place to work if I didn’t give a shit about it. Though I free climb mostly so I don’t test out as much of the equipment as I probably should.” 

“Whoa, that’s pretty dangerous, right? Free climbing?” If he didn’t know better, he’d say he actually impressed him. 

“Yeah, it is if you're shitty at it and don’t take the right precautions.” 

Eren smirks. “So I take it you aren’t shitty at it then?” 

Levi blinks, footing briefly lost at the sudden confidence in Eren’s face. It’s a good look on the kid, and he can’t decide which he prefers, this, or the blushing and soft smiles. 

“I’m pretty good, yeah.” 

When Eren gives him that glowing smile again and Levi can’t help but smile back. 

Conversation flows between them easily. He learns more about Eren’s friends and family (both of whom he misses dearly). In turn, Levi tells him about his mother and his friends, about the cottage near the ocean that he stays at every summer and rents out for the rest of the year (Eren’s eyes go saucer-wide at this and he confides that he’s never seen the ocean in person before. It takes everything in Levi not to blurt out an invite). At some point, Lady wanders out and butts up against Eren’s legs. He scoops up the little cat without hesitation and Lady purrs loudly as she’s pet. 

The whole time Levi’s overwhelmed by the sheer rightness of it all. Eren looks good in his apartment, softening all the hard chrome edges. Looks right drinking out of his shitty novelty mugs and scratching Lady beneath the chin. He’s certain he’d look just as right helping Levi cook dinner and wash the dishes. Eren could fit into his life like a puzzle piece, filling out all the moments that his apartment feels more like a hotel than a home. When everything’s too cold and quiet. 

In the distance, Levi can still make out the strains of music from the party next door, but at least it’s a little quieter now. Past Eren, a soft orange glow from the streetlamps nearby fills the living room window, like some kind of halo behind him. 

Clearly, Levi needs to lay off the caffeine since he’s waxing poetic about some college student he only just met at god-knows-what hour. 

“Oh, shit!” Eren exclaims, drawing Levi’s attention once more. 

“Everything okay?” 

“It’s almost three AM,” he says sheepishly. “You probably have work and other real-life stuff to do tomorrow and I’ve just fucked up your whole night.” 

As much as he’d like to tell Eren that he’s entirely wrong, that there are absolutely no other commitments that he has other than spending the rest of the night spending as much time with Eren as possible, it would be patently untrue. 

Letting out a long sigh he stretches. “Yeah, you’re right. I do have shit to do tomorrow, unfortunately. I assume that you probably are in need of some shut-eye as well. College was a hell of a time as far as I can remember.” 

“Yeah, this was my last day of finals, so I’m running on….not much sleep?” 

Looking closer at Eren, he can see evidence of this on his face. At first, he’d assumed it was from the tears, but now he detects a slight pallor to his skin and faint dark circles beneath his eyes. “Oh? How much is ‘not much?’” 

Eren looks away and rubs the back of his neck defensively. “I think I passed out on my lunch break for a few minutes on Saturday. I work at the animal shelter on Pine Street.” 

It has to be some sort of sin that Eren’s this pretty and coherent even when sleep-deprived. 

“That’s it.” Levi pushes himself up from where he leaned against the counter. “Time to get some rest, kid.”

Thankfully, Eren seems to more than agree. He manages to talk Levi out of letting him have his bed, curling up on the couch beneath several layers of blankets. Within moments of his head hitting the pillow, he’s out completely. His hair sticks up in a million directions on his pillow and Levi’s fairly certain he’s drooling, but still, all he can think is ‘ _ cute _ .’ 

Levi checks the clock on the stove once more before heading back to his bedroom: 3:35 AM. Fuck, his teleconference is going to suck.

Still, as he lies back down in bed, he can’t find it in himself to feel anything but a warm sense of contentment as he drifts off to sleep. 

Now all he has to figure out is how to ask Eren for his number.


	2. basil & garlic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _3:30pm. Shit._
> 
> _He wheels about, searching for a clock. The numbers displayed on the stove and microwave confirm that his phone is not in fact glitching. It’s really 3:30. He’s slept the day away._
> 
> _At the very least his classes are over and he’s off of work until after winter break, but still. He’s squandered the entire day and, though Levi’s not been here, likely vastly overstayed his welcome._
> 
> ***
> 
> Eren's morning does not go as planned. Oops. 

A soft, tickling beneath his nose wakes Eren. For a split second, it’s pleasant, like a gentle touch. Until it causes him to let out a forceful sneeze. 

A feline yowl fills the air and he cracks his heavy eyelids open, looking for the source of the sound. Across the room, he catches a swish of a little grey tail beneath a heavily laden bookcase.

“Sorry, kitty,” he murmurs, collapsing back onto his bed. 

_ Wait _ . No, that’s wrong. Not his bed. A couch. And at that a nice, smooth black leather couch that's been covered in seemingly handmade quilts that smell like fabric softener. What. The. Actual. Fuck? 

It’s Eren’s turn to bolt, sitting straight up. He looks around frantically. He’s in an apartment (a really fucking nice apartment). 

As he takes in the dimly familiar scene the memories of the night (or perhaps technically morning) flood back to him. Getting dragged to the party by Jean. Crying on the front porch steps. Having tea as the first rays of dawn light broke over the city.  _ Levi _ . 

He glances around nervously, as though expecting the other man to appear out of thin air. He doesn’t though. In fact, the apartment is entirely still and silent except for the soft, distant sounds of the city. 

Eren rubs a hand over his face and stands. “Levi?” His voice sounds far too loud, ringing out in the peaceful living room. 

Timidly, he clambers out of his cocoon of blankets and pads over to the kitchen. 

Once he comes to stand beside the barstools at the kitchen counter, it’s easy to see that the rest of the apartment is just as empty. He can see through two doors on the far wall that had been shut the night before: one to a small bathroom and the other a bedroom ( _ Levi’s bedroom _ , his mind chirps, unhelpfully). At first glance, they both appear to be decorated in the same style as the living room and kitchen—minimalist and monochromatic. 

Normally, he finds this kind of decor almost unbearably dull (and, to be fair, a few pops of color would vastly improve the coziness levels of the apartment), but he can’t help but think it suits its owner. At first glance, Levi had appeared cold, dressed without color, and sporting a hell of a glare. But the man had shocked Eren with the generosity he displayed. 

He shakes his head, even though he’s clearly alone, it feels weird to remain standing aimlessly, so he takes a seat at the counter again. It’s then that he notices a message written on a sticky note in neat, tight handwriting. 

_ Eren—Sorry to ditch you in my apartment, but I had to head in early to work. Feel free to eat something if you are hungry, use the phone, and the charger on the counter (it looks like it should work for your phone). Hope you slept alright on the couch. Ignore Lady’s whining, she’s already had breakfast. Call if you need anything (X-XXX-XXXX). Levi.  _

Carefully, he rereads it a few times before setting it back down. Sure enough, there’s a charger that will work with his phone sat beside the note, along with what appears to be a clean (of course it’s fucking clean, just like literally everything else in the apartment. Eren seriously doubts if there’s a speck of dust to be found in the entire place). It’s black with a gold star on the front with ‘u tried’ written on it in white comic sans. 

Eren can’t stop the snort of laughter that spills from his mouth. He tries to envision the look of utter boredom on Levi’s face as he received this mug as no doubt another gift. Somehow, he’d like to think that perhaps this one is better suited to the man than some of the others, though the kitty mug was exceptionally cute. 

As if on cue, Lady appears out from underneath the bookshelf, strutting over to curl about his ankles, purring softly. 

“Good morning to you too.” He crouches down, scratching gently behind her ears which earns him a playful lick. 

After a minute, she wanders off toward Levi’s bedroom, swishing her tail behind her. 

Pushing away the last threads of sleep, he collects his phone from the floor beside the couch and plugs it in on the charger Levi provided. It lights up after a moment, the time greeting him cheerily. 

3:30pm. Shit.

He wheels about, searching for a clock. The numbers displayed on the stove and microwave confirm that his phone is not in fact glitching. It’s really 3:30. He’s slept the day away. 

At the very least his classes are over and he’s off of work until after winter break, but still. He’s squandered the entire day and, though Levi’s not been here, likely vastly overstayed his welcome. 

Letting out a long breath he slumps down on the counter, watching as a half-dozen notifications pop up from Jean. Hastily, he types out a quick reply, letting his semi-concerned (and reluctantly apologetic) roommate know that he is not in fact frozen into a popsicle in some ditch, but rather ‘crashing at a cousin’s house nearby.’ It’s a believable enough excuse for now, though he doesn’t doubt he’ll be grilled by Jean until he’s forced to give up the truth about Levi. 

What exactly to call him though. His friend? A generous (and absolutely fucking gorgeous, if his sleep-deprived memory is to be trusted) stranger? The question somehow feels like far too much for him to contemplate with no caffeine in his system, so instead, he flips on the electric kettle and pulls open a few drawers before finding the one containing Levi’s tea collection.

Though there are dozens of identical steely tins, they’re all neatly labeled. He runs his fingers over them, idly wondering which is the other man’s favorite and why. 

In the end, he settles on something called ‘Peppermint Mocha Twist’ that smells like the holidays when he holds it up to sniff. 

Carefully, he measures out a couple of spoonfuls and places the loose leaves into a tea ball he finds hanging on the wall beside the kettle. Even though he doesn’t drink tea, he can see the appeal. Something is soothing about sitting at the counter with his steeping mug curling between his fingers. As he watches, the brew darkens and once he guesses it’s the appropriate level of stepped, he discards the used leaves and adds a little milk and sugar. The blend smells even better now: minty and sweet, and not unlike one of the cookies his mother bakes every year for his family’s annual holiday reunion. 

He shoots Jean another text, asking if he can come pick him up since his ‘cousin’ has to work and won’t be able to drop him off. Eren figures it’s the least Jean can do since he both has a car and is the reason he was marooned in the first place.

Idly, he spins around on the barstool to gaze out the window. Snow’s begun to fall, little flurries of white breaking up the grey afternoon skyline. Even though he’s gazing out at the same austere city he’s been living in for the past several months, it feels less severe here. Like a scene from a snow-globe or a silly rom-com that Mikasa and Armin would rope him into watching. 

A loud buzz from his phone pulls his attention away from the serene scenery. He scoops it up. 

**_ FROM HORSEFACE:  _ ** _ Jaeger, the weather’s going to shit, so I can’t pick u up. Can ur cousin drop u off??  _

Fucking Jean. Eren pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long breath. Honestly, the first and second graders that he works with have more fucking sense than his roommate Still, it’s probably for the best—even in the time that he’s been sitting here, the snow has picked up, further blurring the distant skyline. 

He chews on his lip, nervously (he can practically hear Mikasa yelling at him from California. She’d always hated the habit of his). No good is going to come from pestering Jean. The college student was reckless at best and if he even thought that driving would be a bad idea then there’s nothing to be done. 

**_ TO HORSEFACE: _ ** _ Dn’t worry abt me. I’m good! I’ll let u know when I’m heading back.  _

Sighing, he drops his phone in his lap, scooping back up his mug. 

For a moment, he thinks about calling Armin to ask for his advice, but it’s finals week there too and no doubt his friend is buried neck-deep in textbooks and takeout coffee cups.

“You can figure this out on your own,” he says firmly. “Just think Eren.” 

He doesn’t have a jacket because Jean had rushed him out the door before he could grab one, which means that even if he got directions off his phone, walking to the nearest bus stop, or even back to his apartment isn’t a  _ great _ idea. 

Okay, so that’s one idea down. Next. 

His eyes wander back to the note still stuck to the counter, Levi’s number written out in crisp blue ink. The man had been nothing but kind to him so far, hell if he hadn’t met the guy, he’d think that Levi had some ulterior motive for his generosity. Something in his demeanor though dismisses the thought from his mind as soon as it arrives. Levi was intimidating, sure, with his thousand-yard stare and almost nonexistent shifts in expression (not to mention the fact that Eren is fairly sure the guy does a lot more than rock climb to become that built). In the brief time he had known him though, Eren had yet to find anything remotely threatening about Levi. In fact, he’d quickly realized that the man was fairly easily flustered and awkward despite his cool appearance. 

Needless to say, he’s almost certain that Levi would not want him attempting to trek out in the weather. 

He doesn’t feel great about bothering Levi at work either. Though he hadn’t gone into great detail about his job, Eren can guess that helping to run a corporation comes with a good deal of stress and responsibility (and likely doesn’t have much time for texts from college students loitering in apartments). 

Speaking of Levi’s work, it’s now nearly four PM. Most likely, he’ll be home sometime soon. 

Suddenly, Eren’s panicking for an entirely different reason. Levi had offered him a place to stay for the night and suggested that he have breakfast in the morning, not sleep the day away, and mince around his apartment indefinitely. 

Spinning around, he lets out a long groan and drops his head forward to rest on the counter. The feeling of the cool, black marble against his skin is grounding and he sighs, trying to pull his thoughts together. 

He can’t leave, at least until he asks Levi to borrow a jacket or the storm blows over. Since he’s unwilling to hassle Levi at work, he’ll just have to wait around until he gets home and cross his fingers that the man has the patience of a saint. 

If he’s entirely honest with himself—there’s a small part of him that simply wants to wait around in the hopes of seeing Levi once again. 

A loud rumble cuts through his thoughts. Fuck, when had he last eaten? Dimly, he recalls eating a few handfuls of cheese puffs and chips at the party and then the two cups of tea but other than that, nothing since lunch the day before. No wonder his stomach is beginning to loudly protest. 

Standing, he walks the fridge and pulls it open, hoping to find something that Levi won’t likely miss. Instead what he’s greeted with is...bleak. There's milk, condiments, and a few boxes of takeout that look like they need to be thrown out. He checks the freezer and finds that while there are some frozen veggies, it’s largely filled with instant, microwavable meals. 

Levi can’t cook. That or he doesn’t have the time and energy to. 

Eren looks through the rest of the cupboards in the kitchen and finds various pots, pans, and cooking ingredients—pasta, baking supplies, canned tomatoes—all seemingly unused. 

Slowly, an idea comes together in his mind. 

There’s nothing he can do about overstaying his welcome. He’s reckless, sure, but even he knows that he’ll be asking for frostbite, if not hypothermia, should he go out. But, perhaps he can offer something to Levi in exchange. 

Grinning, he scoops up his phone and taps out a quick message. 

**_ TO MOM:  _ ** _ hey, can you send me a pic of Granny’s special pasta sauce recipe?  _

Within a few moments, he has a reply

**_ FROM MOM _ ** :  _ Of course sweetie! Send me pics of the results! Xoxo  _

He looks over the list of ingredients carefully. He’ll have to make a few substitutions, but all in all, it seems like he’ll be able to pull it together without issue. 

All throughout his childhood his mom and grandmother have made the warm, cinnamon-infused pasta sauce throughout the winter as a special treat for holiday get-togethers. He has no idea what sort of food Levi likes, but based on the number of cinnamon teas, he feels like he can safely bet that the man enjoys spices. 

“There’s nothing quite like coming back to a home-cooked meal,” his mother’s warm voice echoes in his head and he collects the ingredients setting them on the counter. 

In one of the cupboards, alongside oven mitts and he finds a neatly folded black apron. Emblazoned on the front is the phrase ‘I Cook as Good as I Look’ in a quirky, bold font. He snorts but pulls it on over his sweater. Presumably, this must be another gift from Levi’s friends. 

After a few minutes of dicing, the kitchen is filled with the scent of sizzling onions and garlic. He adds in the diced tomatoes and tomato puree along with a few cinnamon sticks and bay leaves. The mingling spices make something warm and familiar twist in his chest: it smells like home. 

Thankfully, the majority of the recipe is waiting. Waiting for the sauce to cook down, waiting for the water for the pasta to boil. It gives Eren time to work on his second favorite of his family's recipes, one he’s been allowed to help with since he was little and now knows by heart—garlic knots. 

In truth, he’s always favored baking to cooking. Getting to knead and form the dough, the mystery of the chemical reactions happening within the oven. Even though he's old enough to know that what goes on throughout the baking process is not in fact magic as he’d believed as a child, but rather science, he still finds it wondrous. 

It also doesn’t hurt that these garlic knots whip up in a little over half an hour, and Eren has no idea when Levi will be home. He carefully pulls together the dough. It doesn’t appear as though Levi has any sort of stand mixer, so he mixes it by hand, but he doesn’t really mind. Instead, he pulls up a playlist on his phone and gets to work, folding in the flour, kneading and twisting the dough till it comes together elastic and moldable. 

Sprinkles with garlic powder and brushed with butter, he slides a tray of a dozen into the oven, rocking back on his heels. 

Somehow, he’s almost certain that any pleasant feelings that might come from his surprise will be utterly negated if Levi returns and sees the absolute  _ clusterfuck _ that Eren’s turned his kitchen into—there’s a heap of dishes in the sink, flour on the countertops, and Lady’s winding around his legs again, lapping at little dots of melted butter that he’d splashed on the floor. 

"Clean up time it is then," he announces to no one, steeling himself.

Maybe it’s because he was, as his mother would say, a ‘notoriously messy child’ that Eren’s become quite adept at cleaning over the years. He can’t help the ingrained clumsiness that he’d thought would decrease over the years (but hadn’t in the slightest) so he’d struck a balance by simply getting good at picking up his messes. Spilled cups of coffee, stray socks, more dishes than he can count. It comes in handy now, as he’s able to make short work of the mess sprawling across Levi’s kitchen. 

First, he wipes down the counters, then the floor with the help of a well-used mop he finds among a large collection of cleaning supplies in one of the nearby closets. Lady chases the mop around the floor, paws skittering along the slick surface. 

As soon as that’s done, the garlic knots are ready, so he pulls them out and slides them onto a cooling rack, before dumping the pasta into a now-boiling pot of water. Figuring it can’t hurt, he flicks on the kettle as well: Levi seems like the kind of man who would want tea the minute he gets home. 

Cooking here is far more enjoyable than the meals he usually scrapes together at his own place. More often than not, he just makes a passable sandwich or has leftovers from whatever he made on the weekend when there was more time for making proper meals. 

It’s almost fun, digging in up to his elbows in soapy water to wash the dishes. Softly, he hums along to the next song on his playlist—a german folk song that Armin must’ve added.

He’s so engrossed in the task at hand, that he completely misses the sound of the lock clicking, as well as the soft footsteps approaching the kitchen. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

He lets out an embarrassing yelp, spinning around. 

A look of dumbfounded confusion fills Levi’s face. There are little, half-melted snowflakes clinging to his hair and the grey checked scarf wound around his throat. Eren’s filled with the urge to brush the flakes away and smooth out the furrow in his brow, even though there are far more pressing things to do, like explain what the fuck he’s still doing in the other man’s apartment. 

“Seriously, what are these?” 

The repeated question jolts Eren out of his thoughts, drawing him back to the problem at hand. 

He blinks, seeing that Levi is in fact pointing toward the garlic knots resting on the kitchen island. 

“Er, they’re garlic knots?” He rubs the back of his neck, cringing as he realizes that his arms are entirely soaking wet still. “You know, like garlic bread but...twisty?” 

“Oh, cool.” Unwinds his scarf, disappearing back in the entryway before returning a moment later. He pays no mind to Eren, brushing past him and quickly washing his hands at the sink. 

With his back to him, it’s easier to speak and suddenly words begin pouring out of his mouth: “I’m so so sorry that I’m still here. I overslept and I know you don’t know me, but it started snowing and my roommate couldn’t come pick me up, and so I figured I’d just wait till it blew over. But it didn’t blow over and, and….” He trails off as Levi turns, finished drying his hands. Rather than irritated he seems...amused? Eren still can’t really tell what his expression is meant to be, but one corner of his mouth is higher than the other and the glare is gone so he figures it’s a good sign. 

Levi lets out a long sigh, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter. Eren opens back up his mouth to finish his explanation, but shuts it again when he holds up a hand. “Easy, kid. I get it.” 

“What?” It comes out far too squeaky.

“Honestly, I would have called and told you to stick around since the weather’s such a fucking shitshow today, but I don’t have your number and you didn’t call me.” He shrugs. “Though I suppose that doesn’t explain all this.” ‘This’ Eren has to assume means the food in various stages of completion around them. 

“I made dinner?” 

“So you did.” Levi shakes his head. “You’re kinda hard to figure out, you know that?” 

“Says you of all people!” Eren blurts before he can think better of it. He frowns, fiddling with the ties of the apron around his waist. “I...You really helped me out yesterday and since I hung around all day I figured that making dinner was the least I could do?”

The plan sounded better in his head, but standing unmoored in the kitchen, he can see through it for how ridiculous it really is. Honestly what the hell was he thinking? Levi might not even be the sort of person who likes pasta. All those ingredients might have been to collect dust for a reason, after all.

The kettle gives a cute, automated jingle, declaring the water boiled. Levi raises an eyebrow, glancing between Eren and it. 

“What’s that for?” 

“Tea.” Eren twists his fingers in the sleeve of his sweater, hoping that the floor will open up and swallow him. “Look, if I can just borrow a jacket or something, there’s a bus stop not far from here that I can walk to and—” 

Levi groans and rubs a hand over his face. “Kid, you aren’t getting it. I’m not mad at you or whatever you're worried about so just calm the fuck down. Also, it’s still a fucking blizzard out there so there’s no way you’re going out in that.” 

Eren opens his mouth but Levi shoots him a sharp glare and he shuts it once more. Muttering something under his breath about ‘shitty brats,’ Levi crosses over to some cabinets and pulls them open, taking down two pairs of bowls and plates. 

“So, what kind of sauce is it?” He asks, glancing into the bubbling pot. 

“Er, it’s a family recipe. It’s basically a marinara though,” Eren answers, watching as Levi sets out silverware and the dishes for the two of them side by side at the kitchen island. He doesn’t speak, just moves around Eren who stands stock-still in the middle of the kitchen, unsure what to do. Apparently, Levi feels none of the overwhelming awkwardness and uncertainty he feels, pulling out two mugs. 

“What kind of tea are you thinking? Chai again or something different?” 

Eren jumps, despite not having taken his eyes off him. “Er, whatever you’re having is fine with me. I don’t really know much about teas.” 

Levi shrugs, seemingly satisfied by his fumbling answer, and makes them two cups of tea. Not knowing what else to do, Eren carefully fills their bowls with pasta and places a couple of garlic knots on each plate. He can’t help but feel a little proud of his work under such short notice. It really doesn’t look half bad, his mother would approve. 

“Well, come on, it’s pretty creepy if you just stand there while I eat, you know?” Levi drawls, sitting down at the counter. He waits until Erens seated beside him to begin eating. 

For a few minutes, there’s nothing but quiet. Eren digs in, pleased to find that he was correct in his assessment: if nothing else, he’s made a damn good dinner. 

“It’s been quite a while since I had a home-cooked meal.” Levi doesn’t meet his eye as he speaks, delicately tearing apart one of the garlic knots. “I forgot how nice it is. Thank you.” Though it’s said in the same bored tone as nearly everything else the man has said to him, there’s a hint of pink tinting the tips of Levi’s ears. 

“You’re welcome.” 

They finish their meal in silence; however, the prickly sensation of intrusion leaves Eren. He gets the sense that there’s very little Levi does that he does not want to do: he wouldn’t have let Eren hang around if he didn’t enjoy having him there. 

It’s only later, when Eren’s still sitting at the counter and Levi’s washing up their dishes (he’d tried to help, but Levi had sent him slinking back to his seat with a sharp glare) that the conversation picks up again. 

“Where’d you learn to cook like that?” Levi’s back is to him as he washes and dries each dish, but Eren can easily picture his furrowed brows and neutral expression as he speaks. 

“My mom. And my grandma. They couldn’t keep me out of the kitchen—I was always underfoot—so eventually they started teaching me stuff so I could be at least a little useful.” He huffs softly at the memories of his Mom trying to shoo him out of their small kitchen to no avail. “Though I was certainly more of a distraction than a help for most of it.” 

Levi snickers. “Yeah, that seems about right.” 

“You don’t cook at all?” 

Something in Levi’s posture stiffens, but he keeps washing the dishes carefully. “Not really, when I was younger things were kinda rough for me and my mom, so I never made much time for learning how to cook.” 

“That fucking sucks.” The words are out before Eren can stop them. 

This time Levi lets out a proper short bark of laughter. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

Eren’s tea has gone cold but he sips at it anyway, just to have something to do with his hands. He glances back over his shoulder to see that the snow has finally stopped, leaving just the silvery moon and the soft orange glow of the distant city to break up the night sky. 

“The storm’s passed.” 

Eren looks back to see Levi's finished the dishes and is leaning against the counter as he had the night before. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way.” He folds his arms and fixes Eren with a serious look. “But my guess is that your roommate—even if he really is a complete jackass—is probably a little worried about you by now.” 

Eren frowns and pulls his phone from his pocket. Of course, Levi’s right: there’s a mildly concerned text from Jean, asking if he’s coming back tonight or not. 

“Er, yeah….” 

“Well, as nice as it is having you around here, you have a life to get back to and I have another fucking conference call in the morning because my colleges are sadists.” 

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” Eren says, standing. 

Disappointment wells up in his chest, though he can’t pinpoint why. What did he really expect to come of this? Levi’s a wonderful stranger, but just that: a stranger. He has an entire life that does not include emotional, pasta-cooking college students. Eren doesn’t even know what it is exactly he’d been hoping for? A friend? A date? If he’s being honest, Levi’s more than a little attractive. Beyond that, if Eren lets himself, it’s far too easy to envision all the little ways their lives might just….fit together. 

Eren hated studying in cafes and the library, but Jean had a continuous parade of friends streaming in and out of their apartment, meaning they were practically the only options. He’s fairly certain that he’d be more than able to get his work done at the low glass coffee table in Levi’s living room though. Eren could cook them dinner when their schedules lined up. Levi could teach him to rock climb and how to properly brew a cup of tea—

Levi coughs loudly, jolting Eren back to reality. “Oi, kid, anything I’m saying getting through?” 

He flushes and shakes his head sheepishly. “Not really, sorry.” 

The corner of Levi’s mouth quirks up once more. “You’re in your own world a good bit, huh?” It’s not as flat as Levi’s tone is usually, and if Eren feels like reaching, he might even say that there’s a hint of fondness in there. 

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Eren glances away from Levi’s piercing gaze. “Sorry.” 

He reaches up and flicks Eren’s forehead. “Did I say it was a bad thing?” 

Eren yelps, more out of surprise than discomfort. “No?” 

Levi rolls his eyes before walking to the entryway. “Exactly. So cut the ‘sorry’ shit out.”

“Got it!” 

Levis’ out of sight for a moment. He reappears wrapped up in a dark peacoat and scarf. He holds out a much larger jacket to Eren. It looks obviously expensive in a way that somehow sticks out from the rest of Levi’s possessions (that and the fact that it’s long on Eren and no doubt would swallow the other man). Still, Eren pulls it on, pushing up the sleeves slightly. 

Before Eren can stop him, Levi loops a scarf around his neck made of soft, green wool, tucking in the ends. It’s such a benign gesture and yet Eren completely loses his train of thought as Levi’s fingers brush against his neck as he finishes tying the scarf. 

“Is this your coat?” Eren manages when Levi steps back to examine his work. 

“No. It’s my friend, Erwin’s. He’s a fucking giant.” 

“He won’t mind?” 

Levi shakes his head and scoffs. “No, those things have been taking up room in my closet since last winter. The bastard forgets to take it back every time he’s here.” 

Eren doesn’t have a response for that, so instead, he just watches as Levi twirls his keys around his finger once before stuffing them in his coat pocket. 

“Eh, Levi? What exactly is going on?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Levi’s brows furrow together. “The roads shouldn’t be complete shit by now. I’m going to drive you wherever you need to go? I assume that’s your apartment, or dorm, or whatever?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Eren says, following Levi out of the apartment and onto the landing at the top of the stairs. 

“You didn’t have to make me dinner.” 

“Yeah, but that's….” He was going to claim that it’s entirely different, but based on the look of amusement Levi’s giving him, he’s certain such an argument will be poorly received or entirely ignored. 

The outside world that greets them is far different than the one from the night before. Gone is the bland, late-November chill, replaced by snow-frosted trees and icicles hanging from porches. Eren’s breath makes small clouds as he trails after Levi to a sleek black car parked beside the house alongside a few others. 

Though he doesn’t know shit about cars, he gets the feeling it’s like everything else Levi seems to own—understated but no doubt extremely high quality and expensive enough that Eren’s not sure he should even be sitting in it, lest he reduces it’s value somehow. 

Carefully, the clicks in his seatbelt, watching out of the corner of his eye as Levi does the same. There’s an...elegance about the man. That’s the word that Eren’s been struggling to pin down. Even though most of the words he speaks are harsh—crude, even—and he’s got the glare to match, there’s something about Levi’s movements that makes him want to stop and watch. 

The effect is only amplified in the semi-dark of the car. Orange light from nearby street lamps spills through the window, painting Levi in the shades of an artificial sunset. It’s still snowing little, white flakes striking the windshield. Neither of them speaks, a perfect unbroken silence stretching between them. It feels like time stopped, Eren realizes. Like we’re the only people left. 

“So, you gonna give me an address?” Levi asks, voice a little softer than he expects, drumming his fingers against the wheel. 

The moment splits apart and Eren nods, stuttering out his address. Thankfully, Levi knows the area—apparently, his work is within walking distance—and so Eren won’t have to give too much instruction. It’s a blessing since he’s never been great with directions honestly (that’s how he and Armin had become friends, getting lost together on a field trip. Armin navigated them out of the woods once Eren got him calmed down). Eren tells the story to Levi, who listens along thoughtfully. He huffs out a laugh when Eren describes the stern talking to Mikasa had given them both. 

“They sound alright, for a bunch of brats,” Levi says, once Eren’s finished. “Friends can be annoying as hell, but….” he trails off and shakes his head. 

“But they’re worth it,” Eren says, firmly, before he fully understands the thought he’s trying to express (this happens far, far too often, but he’s never been one to think before he speaks and he’s not going to start now). “Yeah they can be difficult because you never really know what someone else is thinking but that’s why they’re interesting too. And sometimes the people that seem like they’d be the most difficult to get along with, or the most different than ourselves are the people that add the most meaning to our lives.” 

“Hmm.” The noise is more pondering than dismissive, so Eren takes it as approval to press on with his increasingly rambly monologue. 

“I honestly don’t get why they put up with me, because I’ve gotten us into enough trouble for ten people, but I know I can always count on them. That’s why even though we’re far away from one another, I’m not going to let them go. No matter what.” Suddenly, the words aren’t coming as freely as before, emotion filling up his throat. He’s not said this to Armin and Mikasa, and well, Jean is Jean, so why the fuck would he say anything of any weight to him? Realistically, he probably shouldn’t be dumping all this on Levi but thus far the other man doesn’t seem put off. 

“And if they want to be let go? Or if it just happens? What are you going to do about it then, kid?” 

“I’m not going to give up on them. Sometimes, I think at least, that you have to accept that not all relationships are easy—that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth it though.”

Well, shit, he really didn’t mean to say all that, but here they are, Eren’s words hanging in the air. He lets out a long breath, looking back down at his lap and twisting the sleeves of his sweater. They’re getting stretched out, they always do when he’s nervous (it’s another bad habit that Mikasa will no doubt scold him for over Winter break, but there’s not much she can say really since he can always just stress-knit himself another one once these are all worn out). 

Levi’s silent, eyes still fixed on the road ahead (which, in retrospect, is probably for the best, but Eren really wants to properly see the other man’s expression). 

“That’s a hell of a way to live,” Levi says.

It’s impossible to tell whether such a statement is meant to be positive or negative, but there’s nothing irritated in the man's face. Or at least what Eren can see of it. Instead, he looks....peaceful. Lost in thought. His eyes flick over to Eren’s briefly, before going back to the road. 

The corner of his mouth hitches upward and he lets out a soft huff. “We should be close. Any of this look familiar?” 

Eren turns his attention to the outside world once more. “Yeah, this is only a few blocks from my area. I’m on Gordon Ave.” 

“Hm, got it.” 

He’s thankful for the quiet, since his thoughts feel scrambled, tumbling over one another. Though, the silence doesn’t give him anything to focus on besides the twisting feeling in his stomach and the growing sense of dread as they near his apartment building. 

There’s no reason to be so bothered. Levi’s just a stranger, a kind and interesting one, but a stranger nonetheless. 

They pull onto Gordon Ave and his towering apartment building made of old red brick and condensation-stained windows appears. 

“I’m the big one on the right,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. 

Levi doesn’t reply but maneuvers them into a parking space. He turns, looking at Eren, waiting for him to say something, no doubt. To say ‘bye’ and maybe ‘thanks for the help,’ and then get out of his car like a normal, functioning person.

_ It’s just a random encounter _ , the logical part of Eren’s brain insists. He got lucky that he met Levi and he’s more than appreciated the generosity he’s shown him but none of it means anything. 

But Eren’s never been good at meaningless so instead, he blurts: “So I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get dragged to a bunch more shitty parties by Jean so maybe I could, like, I don’t know, get your number just in case?” 

It’s the least elegant way possible to pose such a question, but really, it doesn’t matter since at precisely the same moment Levi says: “Hey, kid, do you want to get coffee or whatever the fuck it is you drink sometime?” 

Both of them go silent, staring at one another in shock. Then Eren’s giggling, hand coming up to cover his mouth. A smile breaks over Levi’s face, a proper one. For a long moment, they just sit there grinning at one another like idiots. 

Levi glances away (he’s not quite blushing, but his ears are red again) and clears his throat. “Well, that’s good then.” 

Eren nods, not quite trusting himself not to say anything else ridiculous. Instead, he digs his phone out of his pocket and pulls up ‘Contacts,’ before handing it to Levi. He ignores the little skip his heart does as their fingers brush and watches in silence as the other man taps out his number. He passes back the phone and Eren sees that he’s put in his contact as ‘Levi Ackerman.’ Before he can forget (like he’s ever going to be able to stop thinking about Levi now) he sends him a text.

“I’m free this weekend?” he says, trying to shove down the overwhelming feeling of shyness that’s replaced the heart-stopping adrenaline he felt moments before. “If you really want to get coffee, or tea, or something.” 

“Sounds good.” Levi’s phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. His mouth pinches downwards in a frown and he looks away. “Not to kick you out, but—” 

“But you have work and I have a roommate to notify of my survival. Don’t worry.” He still really doesn’t want to get out of the car (and he gets the feeling that Levi would rather he didn’t either). But, even parting ways isn’t able to dampen the smile on his face that he knows must look completely ridiculous. “Thanks for all the help, Levi.” 

“You don’t have to keep—” 

Before Levi can finish, Eren leans over and presses a brief kiss against his temple. “I’ll see you this weekend, ‘kay?” 

Levi’s ears are red again, though this time it’s accompanied by a blush across his cheeks as well. There’s a look of genuine, open surprise along his face and it makes Eren snicker as he pulls open the door and clambers out of the car. 

He steals one last glance back at Levi, who’s still sitting there seemingly too stunned to move. 

Waving once more, he turns and makes a beeline for the doors to the building. As he fumbles with his keys in the entryway, fingers half-numb, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Pausing his search, he pulls it out instead. 

**_ FROM LEVI ACKERMAN: _ ** _ You better bring back my fucking scarf this weekend. It’s my favorite.  _

He smiles all the way up to his apartment. Maybe he should thank Jean for dragging him to that party after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the second half of this fic!! It was a ton of fun to write from Eren's perspective. I"m tempted to make this a series of short fics about this universe, so let me know if any of you would be interested in that! 
> 
> Thank you for all the sweet comments and kudos!! 💕🌸

**Author's Note:**

> I had an overwhelming need to write soft!Eren and absolutely awkward lovestruck!Levi and thus here we are :) Despite being in this fandom for literally 1000 years, this is the first fic I've written for SNK. I hope I did the characters justice! Any kudos and comments are much appreciated!! 💕
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [miriko!](https://miriko.tumblr.com/)
> 
> P.S. Currently looking for a beta-reader so feel free to reach out on tumblr if you are interested!!
> 
> P. P. S. Now officially part of a longer series! Yay!


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